


Proud and Defiant

by jackscrutchie



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Gen, He's not, Puppies, Scuffles, There's a puppy, but he does have a disadvantage, i'm sad that so many people think crutchie is a weak little baby child, no really, still don't know how to tag things here, tough guy crutchie morris, watch crutchie beat some kids up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-10-29 16:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10857984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackscrutchie/pseuds/jackscrutchie
Summary: Crutchie hears a cry for help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Never fear -- The dog is fine. <3

Sometimes, people could be cruel. It wasn’t too often that the extreme cruelties directed at the Newises came outside of Oscar and Morris or Mr. Wiesel – But occasionally it came in the form of a few well off boys that could get away with anything. They would strut around the city, spitting on orphans and trampling over anything they could. They’d laugh and carry on and the bulls would ignore them, probably paid off to do so. Snyder probably got some sort of sick enjoyment out of watching all of it. Who knows? Maybe Snyder was in on it with these boys. Scumbags.

More than once, the boys of Crutchie’s lodging house would get into fights with these brats and somehow, they’d be the ones to blame. Jack had given them a fair share of bruises in scuffles, Elmer was almost dragged off to the refuge once. Albert had tried to egg them on in front of a nun once in an attempt to expose them but unfortunately they didn’t take the bait. Despite being nasty brutes, they had at least bits of brain.

Crutchie never asked for any trouble. Not because he couldn’t take care of himself, ( he was completely capable, thank you very much! Jack taught him well. ) He had been through enough violence and torment. His parents had made sure of that before tossing him to the streets of New York. Today though – After he had finished selling his papes and was on his way back to the lodging house…

’Yipe!’

Crutchie’s head jerked up and he limped as quickly as his legs would take him around the corner. In a shadowed alleyway, those three boys surrounded a small puppy. His stomach twisted and his breath caught. No.

The taller of the boys pulled his foot back and swung it towards the defenseless animal but it couldn’t connect. Just a second before it would have been too late, Crutchie shoved the boy so hard, he had to stumble forward to catch himself. The puppy skittered quickly out of the way, avoiding further damage. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Crutchie set his jaw firm, his brows furrowed in anger. “Damn cowards.”

The taller boy, now on the ground wiped a bit of blood from his lip and turned to look up at his attacker. “What’d you call me, you piece of garbage?” He scoffed at his crutch and jumped to his feet, the other two boys taking a defensive stance behind him. He was clearly the leader.

“You heard me.” Crutchie didn’t budge, not afraid, not backing down. The least he could do was distract them long enough for the poor dog to get away. He’d rather be the one taking the beating.

The leader laughed, gesturing down to the crutch supporting the orphaned boy. The other two joined in, all of them giving him cruel and judging looks. “Oh yeah? And uh,” he strode forward, his head cocking to the side. “What’re you goin’ to do about it, lousy –” Crutchie’s mind blurred out the word. He’d trained himself to ignore it. He spat before reaching forward, giving Crutchie’s shoulder a rough shove.

He stepped back a bit, bracing himself on his good leg. They were all taller than him and he knew he didn’t stand much of a chance against all three. Though that didn’t mean he would let them see his doubt. He just hoped the dog had gotten out of there and somewhere safe. Somewhere they’d never be able to find it. He let himself pause for a moment, breathing slowly and trying to keep himself calm, grounded.

Without turning around, the leader grinned. “Fellas. Go find that little beast. We’ll put on a show for our little busted friend here.”

Without any hesitation, Crutchie braced, brought his crutch up and swung hard. The wood connected with the taller boy’s jaw with a satisfying crack, sending him stumbling to the side. Crutchie saw crimson pour down the bully’s jaw – Hopefully he had broken something. Not a moment later, using the distraction he created, he threw a fist at the first of the cronies. It too, connected. The boy’s red curls bounced as he tumbled backwards, taken off guard. His knuckles stung.

The leader was on the ground, rubbing at his black and blue jaw. “You… You son of a –” He was on his feet faster than Crutchie could ever move, and shoved him. Hard.

Crutchie went down, his crutch quickly kicked away from him by the third boy. This one’s nose was really crooked… He wished he’d have the chance to fix it for him. He cringed, adjusting himself to look back up towards the other boys. He furrowed his brow, his face set in defiance. It didn’t matter how hard they hit him, how much he bled. He wouldn’t let them see him cry. His hands were stinging, he could feel his skin broken on the concrete. He’d have to come up with some excuse to tell the boys.

The boy with the crooked nose knelt down to raise a brow at Crutchie, his lips curled into an ugly sneer. “Disgusting filth.” The other two fussed quietly behind him, trying to figure out where to go from here.

Crutchie smiled a bit, cocking his head to the side sweetly before spitting in his face. The satisfaction was overwhelming. The boy let out a horrified groan, bringing his hand up to wipe at his face. Another chance – Crutchie brought his good leg back and let it go, his foot driving straight into the other’s face, sending him flying back and into the leaders legs. Wow… He was stronger than he thought. The boy didn’t move after he hit the ground. At least now he’d only have to deal with two of them. At least until the crooked one came to again.

“What the hell is with you, huh?” The leader sighed, stepping over his unconscious cronie, leaving the other standing stunned his eyes fixed on the ground. Crutchie could tell that they were surprised. Someone like him, able to do so much damage. His hands were trembling a bit now, the adrenaline kicking in. “Can’t you just sit still,” he swung his leg hard, his foot hitting Crutchie’s bad leg. The boy couldn’t hold back a bark of pain. A low blow – It was what people always went for first. The tall boy laughed, proud that he’d finally gotten the response he was waiting for.

“What? Proud of yourself for beating up on crippled kids and small dogs?” Crutchie laced venom into his words, his mouth set in a firm scowl. “Ain’t got nothin’ better ta do?”

He shrugged, a brow raised. “This is more fun.” He whistled to the other boy. “Hold ‘em.” Crutchie swallowed hard, trying to remember what he used to do. Back when he was really little and with those people. The people who were supposed to love him unconditionally. He looked past the leader just in time to see the blind obedience of the other boy.

Before Crutchie could make himself move, he was roughly pulled up from under his arms and held tight against the red head. His leg seized up in agony, the pain running up and down his spine. “You’re filth, kid.” Crutchie struggled against the bigger boy, but to no avail. He had already been winded. The leader reached into his pocket, pulling out a shining pair of brass knuckles. “Ain’t no surprise that you’re livin’ on the streets.” He slipped them over his fingers, examining them, kissing each bump. “No one wanted you, huh? Ma and Pa couldn’t stand having a disgusting, broken little thing like you ruining their lives?” He pulled his arm back and swung, his knuckles breaking the skin against Crutchie’s cheekbone.

The force was enough to knock the hat off of his head. Crutchie remained silent, focusing on something other than the attacks. He thought of the dog – How much better it must feel being away from these monsters. Just knowing it was safe brought a smile to his face. He could handle this. He’s had worse. He thought of his friends back at the lodging house. How they’d make him laugh. Another hit, this time to his stomach. The breath was knocked out of him. He thought of all the times one of them would stand up for him. He thought of the strike and how proud he was of everyone. He remembered his time in the refuge. Another blow to the face, his lip splitting.

“You may as well just get out of here, you know.” The boys took turns shooting insults. “You’d be better off dead.” One right after another. “You wont last long anyway, with that disgusting diseased leg of yours.” Each one punctuated with another blow. “You’re just broken goods that no one wants.” “Disgusting!” “Broken!” “Revolting!” “Vile!”

He thought of Jack. He thought of watching him paint, watching him tell stories. He tried to hear Jack’s voice in his head, singing a song about Santa Fe. He closed his eyes, focusing, shutting down. Just letting it all happen. Again and again, his skin was broken, his arms bruised and his leg kicked. He could feel himself losing consciousness. At one point, the boy with the crooked nose must have joined in the fun. The attacks came harder and faster until his legs gave out, dead weight in the red headed boy’s arms.

“Drop him.” He heard the leader’s commanding voice. “I’m bored with this one,” a pause. “For now.” The three of them wiped a mix of their own and Crutchie’s blood off of their faces and hands, took their turns spitting at his feet and were gone. Just like that, the dog forgotten.

Crutchie let a small sob slip out, curling in on himself. He was sure he looked a complete mess. He’d have to find somewhere to clean up a bit before going home. He couldn’t let the boys see him like this. But first, he needed to sleep. He knew he shouldn’t but he was so tired… He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering a bit as shadows increased around him. The sun must be setting. He could feel the warm blood flowing from his nose and mouth. He could feel it running down his temple, surely staining his dirty blond hair. Maybe he’d get a cool scar out of this whole ordeal – It was a silver lining. No one would mess with him if he had a cool scar.

He smiled, breathing slowly. He felt himself slipping into sleep, his eyelids getting heavier by the second.

Bark, bark! Bark!!

The puppy? He lifted his head slowly, trying to find the source of the barking. One of his green eyes had swollen shut, dark bruises covered his face. But there, at the end of the alleyway – That same small puppy he had come to rescue, stood barking. He was favoring one of his back legs…

“I swear, if you’re leading us on some wild goose, er dog chase, I’m gonna –” Crutchie had to be dreaming. There was no way – Jack came into view, clearly out of breath. Then Davey, Jojo and Mush joined him. Crutchie saw their faces, registering the sight before them. “Crutchie!?” Jack’s voice echoed down the alley.

He could barely make out the four boys running towards him now, followed by the small dog limping behind them. “Oh my God.” Crutchie’s vision clouded, darkness surrounding him. “What the hell happened?!” Their voices were all muddled together. “Jack we gotta get him home!” Who was talking? “Jack, calm down!” Barking. The dog nuzzled at his hand, licking some of the blood away. “Crutchie!” His world went dark.


	2. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crutchie gets some much needed comfort after struggle with some intrusive thoughts.

_Running_. His breath was labored and his eyes stung from tears. Or was it something else? He was moving down a mostly empty street as fast as his legs would take him. He wished he didn’t need this damn crutch. It would make running so much easier.

 _Fear_. He was scared – But he had to be brave. He needed to stand up to these boys. He held his own before, he could do it again. His leg protested every step, but he couldn’t stop. Or maybe he had to? Were they even following him anymore? If he had gotten that cool scar he had hoped for, this wouldn’t have happened. He’d look tough enough to scare anyone off.

 _Dusk_. The sun was setting and the streets would be much darker soon. How much farther to the lodging house was it? He couldn’t remember how long he’d been running. The last time he’d seen any of these boys, it was just the one with the crooked nose. He had tried to steal his crutch, but Crutchie reacted quickly, throwing a fist into his gut. He wasn’t nearly as tough without his friends around. He cried.

 _Hot_. Sweat fell down his face, his shirt was damp with it. He imagined the three boys were out for revenge. After all, he’d proven himself in front of them more than once now. It was only a matter of time before the came after him with all they had. Maybe this time, they had a plan. They were bigger, stronger and much meaner. Maybe he could ask someone for help. Maybe Jack would help him. Maybe.

 _Jack_. When he woke up after his first encounter with the leader and his two minions, Jack was the first one he saw. Apparently he had worried himself sick at one point. No one knew what had happened to him. They found him bruised and bloodied down an alley – Of course they would worry, they were his friends. He worried about them all the time. Jack fussed over him for two entire days, even though he was only a little sore. There was no permanent damage, no scarring, no steady blood loss or anything like that. Maybe he felt bad he didn’t get there sooner. The days passed and Crutchie’s cuts and bruises healed perfectly.

 _Air_. He needed to stop. He needed to breathe. He was sure he had lost them by now. Even with his crutch, he could move pretty quick. Not to mention, he was sure he knew these streets better than any spoiled little rich boy. He rounded the corner and stopped, leaning against the cool bricks of the building he was passing. His eyes squeezed shut, his chest burned and his legs ached.

 _Silence_. Everything was so quiet, it was unsettling. Now that he wasn’t running, the only sounds he heard were his own raspy breaths. But that was good, right? That meant no one was still following him. He must have lost them…

A voice. “Crutchie.”

His eyes snapped open as he spun in the direction of the sound. “Jack?” Crutchie sighed in relief. Now he had backup. “Oh, Jack. I’m so glad to see you.” He smiled, still out of breath and started slowly towards his friend.

“Why’re you always gettin’ into trouble, huh?” Jack crossed his arms. Defensive.

Crutchie came to an abrupt halt, his heart stopping. A pause. “Wh - What?”

“You heard me.” Jack said, his arms dropping back to his sides. He smiled. No, not a smile. A _sneer_. “You’re always gettin’ yourself in some sort of…” He cocked his head to the side, thinking. “Predicament. You always expect us to come and bail you out.”

Crutchie laughed, a bit nervous now. “What… What are you talkin’ about Jack?” He took a step back. “You’re kiddin’ right?”

Jack pursed his lips and hid his hands in his pockets. “Why would I kid? How many times have I come to your rescue?” He started towards Crutchie, keeping his eyes trained on him. He looked darker somehow.

Crutchie took another step back. “I –” He couldn’t form sentences. Sure, Jack had helped him plenty of times but he’d done the same for Jack and the other boys. He thought they were all friends. That’s what friends did, right? Look out for each other. Jack had told him that before.

“Because, you see… Some of the fellas and me have been talkin’ about your place back at the lodgin’ house.” He kept walking closer, Crutchie slowly continued taking steps back. “You uh – Take up an awful lot of space…” He frowned. “And we’re all gettin’ a little tired of taking care of broken goods.”

Crutchie felt his heart shatter. He went numb.

“Besides, you won’t last much longer with that diseased leg of yours.” He was closer than he had been just a second ago.

His foot slipped off the curb and he fell, hitting the cold street. It seemed much farther down. Memories flashed in Crutchie’s mind, his breath caught in his throat. He stared up at Jack, his face twisted in a way he’d never seen it before. He remembered the leader of those kids saying almost the same thing to him a few months earlier. He remembered the string of insults they threw at him with each punch, with each kick.

“Disgusting!” Jack laughed. “Revolting!” The bully’s voice. “Vile!” It was Race’s voice now. “Useless!” Specs. “Waste of space!” Mush. “Worthless!” Davey. “Coward!” Tommy Boy. “Halfwit!” Boots.

One right after another the boys surrounded him, barking out horrible words. Crutchie couldn’t breathe. Their words all blended together into a symphony of screams. Jack stood above them all, looking down on him, smirking. Crutchie pressed his hands to his ears, his eyes squeezed shut. If they wanted him gone so badly, they should have said something. He would have gone – He’d do anything for Jack and those boys. He would leave! “I’m sorry!” He cried out.

Sudden quiet. Crutchie opened his eyes, tears pouring down his freckled face. Jack’s face was inches from his. He looked cruel – He looked nothing like Jack. Crutchie tried to scoot away from him but when Jack opened his mouth, it was his own voice he heard. “ **Broken**.”

* * *

Crutchie’s eyes shot open. _A dream_. Tears stung as they spilled down his cheeks. It had just been a dream. He was safe in Jack’s penthouse. He was still for a moment, trying to catch his breath and calm himself. He focused on the sky. He could see a few more stars than usual tonight – The voices from his dream echoed in his head. More tears. He knew he was broken… But did Jack really think so too? He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to forget.

“Crutchie?” His voice was gentle and soft. Comforting.

He opened his eyes slowly, terrified that he would see Jack’s face twisted and horrible. Jack was sitting up, paper in his lap and charcoal in his hand. He’d been drawing. Crutchie reached up to rub his eyes dry then slowly found Jack’s face. It was soft, his brows furrowed with concern. His eyes were bright, dreamers eyes. A wave of relief encompassed him. “Yeah…”

“What’s the matter? You okay?” His voice was music to Crutchie. It was so familiar, so warm, so lyrical. Before he could even process how to reply, Jack was scrambling to his side. “Why ain’t you sleepin’?”

Crutchie sat up, his muscles protesting a bit and rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a smile. “Ah, just – A bad dream.” He looked at Jack, knowing his eyes were probably still puffy from the tears and quickly continued. “I don’t… Remember what it was about,” _Liar_. “So I’m fine now.”

Jack sat next to him, staring into Crutchie’s eyes searching for ways to help. He could tell Jack knew he was lying. “You sure?” He leaned a bit closer, his eyes so sincere and filled with light.

He felt his throat and chest tighten. He couldn’t cry. “Y - Yeah.” His voice cracked, betraying him.

Jack reached out and wrapped his arm around the smaller boy, pulling him into his arms. He held him tight, protective. “Whatever is goin’ on in that brilliant mind of yours, I’ve got you now.”

Crutchie stiffened at first, unsure of himself, doubting the realness of all of this. Then he breathed, his lungs filled with the familiar scent of Jack – And relaxed in his arms. This was real, this was Jack. Not that mucked up version of him that his dream had produced. He let himself cry quietly into Jack’s chest, his arms slowly reaching around to return his embrace. It felt good to let it out. His hands tightened around the fabric of Jack’s shirt and he cried and cried and cried. “Why?”

Jack pressed his cheek into Crutchie’s sandy hair and held him tighter. “Why what?” His voice was almost a whisper.

“Why do you put up with me, huh? I’m…” He couldn’t make himself say it. He knew he was being ridiculous. He knew he shouldn’t think the way he did. But – He was a burden. His parents made sure he knew that. They made sure that he knew how much of an inconvenience he was to them and everyone around him. Then they dumped him on the street. So little, so sick… Alone. Maybe he would be better off – “I’m broken. I’m just in the way all the time.”

Crutchie felt Jack tense, his arms trying to pull him closer even though it wasn’t possible. “Broken?” He spoke softly, rubbing Crutchie’s back. “Crutchie – Charlie. You are so far from either of the things you just said.” Jack pulled away from him in favor of looking into his eyes, his arms still around the smaller boy.  "Listen,“ he smiled. "You got any idea how many times you’ve saved my rear? How many times you were there to bail me or any of the other fellas out of somethin’ stupid we did?” He brought his hands up to rest them on Crutchie’s shoulders and leaned forward. “You got any idea how many times one of us would’ve ended up with our asses kicked or in the refuge without you?”

Crutchie’s tears hadn’t stopped falling. He held Jack’s gaze, his withered shoulders trembling under Jack’s hands. “I just slow everyone down.”

“Are you kiddin’ me?” His smile was so kind and reassuring. “You inspire us! Crtuchie, you’re the light in this God forsaken place. You don’t slow anyone down. You lift us up.”

Crutchie smiled through his tears, a small laugh bubbled up. “That was corny, Jack.”

“Was it?” Jack shrugged, bringing his hands up to cup Crutchie’s freckled face. “To hell with it. It’s true.” He pressed his forehead to Crutchie’s and closed his eyes. “We got no hope without you, Charlie. It don’t matter whether you got a bum leg or not. You could have an extra arm, or no legs at all. So long as you’re you.” He pulled back and smiled, bold and bright. “You ain’t broken. You ain’t ever in the way.”

“But –” Jack cut him off.

“No buts. You remember – Nah, of course you do. When you got taken away during the strike…” He paused, thinking. His hands were still on Crutchie’s face, his thumbs catching and wiping away the tears before they fell. “When they took you… I broke. I didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to function. I fell apart because you were gone, and it was my fault. If we wouldn’t have gotten you back…”

Crutchie tilted his head. Did he really mean that much to people? To Jack?

“And when you _did_ come back, you were just as bright as before. You ain’t lettin’ nothing dull you. Crutchie – You’ve been through so much. More than a lot of us… You’re so strong.”

Could he let himself believe something like that? “Jack.. I ain’t strong.”

“Really?” Jack laughed, and shook his head. “You keep your chin up much easier than anyone I know. You don’t let anything get you down. You don’t let anyone or anything hold you back. And it ain’t just that, either.” He pointed to Crutchie’s temple. “You notice the kid with the crooked nose lately? He won’t even _look_ at you anymore. Especially when he ain’t with his buddies. You scare the hell out of ‘em.”

Now that he thought about it, he had noticed that… "But my leg –”

“That don’t hold you back either. Charlie, no one even notices the crutch anymore. You’re so much more than that damn thing. It’s a part of you – But it will never mean you’re anything less than incredible.” He pulled him back into a warm embrace. “I wish you knew how much you meant to everyone. How much you mean to me. How important you are… How much I –” He trailed off, tightening his arms again.

Crutchie let himself settle back into Jack’s arms, the words repeating over and over in his head. His dream being drowned out by words of love and support. This was what it was like to be with this boy – All of those boys. They all meant a lot to each other. He loved them all so much, how could he not believe that they loved him in return? How could he let himself think they could be so cruel, despite it only being a fleeting moment in a dream? It didn’t matter how much he disliked himself. He was loved.

But still he doubted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an idea for a potential third chapter, but we'll see. Hope you enjoyed. <3


	3. Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crutchie struggles with the doubt and shame and self - loathing he tries so desperately to keep hidden.

A week passed – The little details from Crutchie’s nightmare had been fading, hiding in the back of his mind. Every morning, Jack made sure to wake him up gently – He made sure one of the first things Crutchie saw in the morning was his smiling face. He made sure to wish him a good morning every day. He tried so hard to make sure Crutchie remembered that he was loved and that he was cared for. That no one thought he was broken.

No one except for himself.

He woke up to birds. Jack was no where in sight and a bell rang somewhere below him. The morning bell. It was time to get up – But he’d become so accustomed to seeing Jack’s face in the rising sunlight that he was a bit thrown off. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looked around. Nothing. Maybe he had run down to use the bathroom? Of course, that had to be it. A yawn. He stretched his arms up high, and blinked away the exhaustion. Wait…

Had Jack even come back to the penthouse last night? It wasn’t rare that Crutchie would end up home earlier than Jack but – Last night, Crutchie had fallen asleep before he had seen Jack climb up and over onto the roof. He did fall asleep a bit earlier than usual, but even when Jack played card games inside the lodging house with the boys, he’d always check on Crutchie first. His heart fluttered. What if he was hurt somewhere? What if he had gotten taken to the refuge? No – That wasn’t possible. The refuge had been closed down for months now… But what if – Crutchie stumbled to his feet, his leg protested but he persisted. He ignored his button-up and vest, leaving them discarded on his side of the penthouse. It was already hot and it was barely dawn. He pushed the sleeves of his remaining shirt up, grabbed his hat and crutch and hopped quickly to the latter.

He paused. He was over reacting – He knew he was. If went down in a fuss, everyone would tell him just that. He took a deep breath, sparing a moment to collect himself. He was sure Jack was fine. He came up after he fell asleep and was just inside, using the restroom or washing up before everyone else woke up. Crutchie had done that before – It could be chaos to get a bath sometimes.It was easier in the morning. He fixed the hat on his head and began his careful descent.

With his feet planted firmly on solid ground, he rounded the corner and headed to the circulation gate. He wasn’t even going to check inside. Because Jack was in there. He was sure of it. There was no need to bother him, he was sure he’d see him at the gate.

“Mornin’ Crutchie!” Specs called from behind him.

He turned to greet the tall boy with a smile. “Mornin’!”

“Where’s Jack?” He inquired, sticking his hands into his pockets. “It’s weird not seeing the two of ya together in the mornin’.”

“Hah..” He rubbed at the back of his neck, his cheeks flushing a bit at the thought. “Yeah, he – I think he might be takin’ a bath or somethin’.”

A beat. “No?” Specs shifted his glasses up his nose and looked down to meet Crutchie’s eyes. “Race and Romeo had the baths when I left.”

Crutchie’s heart skipped a beat. “He ain’t inside?”

“No, not that I saw.”

“M - maybe he’s already at the gate."Crutchie swallowed hard, picking up the pace of his steps. Jack was fine. He had nothing to worry about, but his stomach twisted into knots not knowing what was happening. Maybe Jack really was bleeding somewhere – Maybe he got himself in some sort of trouble.

"Hey.” Specs grabbed his shoulder gently and leaned down a bit, his legs far too long for his own good. “He’s fine, I’m sure of it.”

Crutchie let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Yeah – I know that.” He shrugged his shoulders and turned away, trying to deter him from the conversation. “I’m gonna run ahead, okay?”

“You don’t want to walk together?” He stopped, watching Crutchie go.

“I – I gotta stop by somewhere. A regular customer of mine, that sweet old lady at the flower shop told me to swing by before I start sellin’ today. You know Miss Said she had somethin’ for me.” He lied.

“You sure? I don’t mind waitin’ for you.” His intentions were kind, his eyes were sincere – But Crutchie’s mind was going too fast. He couldn’t do this right now.

“I’m sure.” He turned and smiled, letting it grow big and bright, reassuring. He had to look for Jack and he was wasting time. If it had been longer he would have asked for help – But it was too soon to cause any panic by telling the boys he couldn’t find him. He was still fairly certain that he was overreacting. He just needed to check a few spots first. He had to make sure… “I’ll see you at the gate?” He turned back and moved forward.  
—————  
Crutchie looked everywhere. He checked Jacobi’s even though it didn’t open for another hour. He checked the park and Medda’s theater. He checked the small bookstore they both liked to visit. He even walked quickly by the building that used to be the refuge. Nothing. He could feel his heart beating faster and faster as the sun got higher in the sky. He needed to get to the gate. Maybe he would be there now. If he wasn’t, he would tell the boys. They’d have better luck finding him if they looked together.

His eyes stung and his leg ached. He felt sick. “Jack…” He turned a corner –

And there he was. Tall and handsome. Familiar and warm, his smile reaching the golden and warm brown color of his eyes. He let out a sigh of relief. He was safe and… Wait. He knew exactly –

“Jack! Hold on, will you?” Crutchie knew that voice, too. His eyes found the source quickly, easily.

“Quit laggin’ Dave!” Jack laughed and swung his arm, gesturing for him to move faster.

Crutchie stopped and moved back, hiding himself around the corner. He felt his heart constrict again, though it was different this time. Different from when he didn’t know where Jack was… He peeked his head out, watching as Jack reached up to drape a muscled arm over Davey’s shoulders, shaking him playfully.

Of course. Jack was fine. Davey was fine. It was all fine – Crutchie was fine. Les appeared in the doorway, hopping down the few stairs and landed on the sidewalk, running up to join the two older boys. They walked towards the gate – Together. He leaned his back against the sun warmed brick. Jack was fine. He could breathe again… So why wouldn’t the air come?  
—————-  
Once he pulled himself together, he slowly made his way towards the circulation gate. Each step felt heavier and heavier as he felt the weight of his thoughts. He quietly hoped he would run into one of the bullies he had gotten into it with. Particularly the one with the crooked nose. At least it would give him some sort of distraction. Crutchie wasn’t a violent person by any means – But it could be nice to punch one of those jerks. Get rid of some of his… Whatever this was.

He deliberately took his time getting to The World’s gate, not wanting to risk any sort of questions from Specs or the other boys. Not to mention, he sort of didn’t want to see Jack at all. He didn’t want to see him walking so close to Davey. He groaned and tilted his head into the blinding sunlight. Why did it bother him? He asked himself, knowing damn well what the answer was.

He kicked a rock, huffing to himself. Stupid Davey… Stupid Jack… Stupid, stupid stupid Charlie. He peered through the open gate as he approached, quiet. No one was there. Just Wiesel and Oscar. He let himself crack a smile, relieved he had missed them.

“There you are!”

Crutchie jumped, reflexes kicking in, his crutch swinging.

“Hey, hey, hey! It’s just me!” Jack held up his hands. “It’s me!”

Great.

“Jack! Hey! Uh… Sorry ‘bout that.” He averted his eyes quickly – Unable to let them linger on Jack’s for too long. “I - I was just –”

“See? I told ya he was just running a bit behind.” Davey came up to stand next to Jack, a grin on his face. “Listen to me more often.”

“Alright, alright. You was right. That what 'cha wanted to hear, huh?” Jack smirked up at him, a brow raised.

Crutchie fidgeted with loose strings on his shirt as the two boys bickered back and forth. His face flushed and his heart beat almost out of his chest. “Uh - Jack?”

“Huh?” Jack snapped out of his conversation with Davey to look back at Crutchie with a smile.

“I’m –” He pointed over his shoulder at the window. “I’m gonna… Go.” He forced a smile. Damn this feeling. “I haven’t gotten my papes yet.”

Jack watched him carefully, his dark brows furrowing.

“You alright?” Davey leaned forward, questioning and concerned. “You seem –”

“Yeah, no! I - I’m fine. Just… Tired is all. Er…” He paused biting his lip. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Jack and Davey exchanged a look. “Alright. Get some rest soon.” Davey nodded and took a step back. “I’ll meet you?” He looked to Jack who answered with a nod – He crossed the street and paused, waiting for Les to join him. They leaned together, reading over the day’s paper.

“Alright, Crutchie.” Jack widened his stance. “What’s the matter? And don’t you try to lie to me. You know you can’t get away with it.” Jack leaned close, his hands in his pockets.

“Nothin’s wrong, Jack! I promise I’m fine.” He smiled up at him, hitting Jack playfully in the arm. “I’m just… I ain’t feelin’ all that good, ya know? Didn’t sleep very good.”

“I’m… Sorry I wasn’t home last night.” He straightened, seeming to believe Crutchie’s lie for once. “I ended up stayin’ with Dav-”

“It’s okay!” Crutchie cut him off, his stomach twisting into knots. “Really. I didn’t even notice if I’m bein’ honest! I uh –” He dropped his head, “I fell asleep real early and woke up real late so…”

“Crutchie?” Jack reached out and set his hand on Crutchie’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“I’m gonna… Go get my papes.” He moved away quickly, not wanting Jack’s touch to linger any more and turned his back. “I’ll see ya.”

Jack stood back, his hand dropping to his side. He sighed, defeated. He watched as Crutchie approached the window and took a slow step back –

“Uh… Fifty, please.” Crutchie mumbled, setting his coins on the small table.

Oscar scoffed at him, a brow raising. “Late today.” He counted out the papers and held them out. “Wha’s the matter with you?” He smirked, “boyfriend trouble?”

Crutchie swallowed, doing his best to ignore his words. He snatched the stack of papers out of Oscars hands and shoved them into his bag. He didn’t dignify him with a reply.

He laughed, turning his head to spit. “Run along, fairy.”

“Go to hell, Oscar!” Crutchie snapped back, swinging around the shoot him a vicious glare.

“Oooh… Did I hit a nerve?” He sneered back, cracking his knuckles. “Never looked at me like that before. You ain’t gonna fall in love with me are you?”

Crutchie could feel the heat on his face, his blood beginning to boil. He clenched his fists, trying to brush the comment off. Just like he always did –

“Jealous that your precious do - no - wrong Jack Kelly,” he spit the name, “has a new boy toy?”

Crutchie spun on him, walking close. “You know, Oscar…” He smiled, tilting his head to the side. “I notice you ain’t got nothin’ to say to me when the other fellas are around.” He leaned closer. “You think I’m some weak little crip, that can’t fend for himself. You think that I can’t fight my own battles.” He paused, watching Oscar’s face twist into disgust. “But believe me, I can take you down on my own, damn coward.” He turned with a scoff, his jaw clenching.

Oscar laughed, shooing him off. “Get lost, crip. Keep tellin’ yourself that you’re better than you are. Or you could keep lettin’ Jack whisper sweet nothin’s in your ear at night.” He shrugged. “Oh wait, I forgot. Jack’s too busy screwin’ Jacobs to mess around with you anymore. Won’t be long before he tosses you out with the rest of the garbage.”

Crutchie spun on him, throwing a fist into Oscar’s face. His crutch fell to the ground and he ignored the searing pain in his leg as he put a little too much weight on it. Oscar stumbled back, shocked by the sudden attack and rubbed at his bruising jaw. Crutchie stood, defiant. His eyes shooting daggers in Oscar’s direction.

“You’re going to regret that, boy.” Oscar smirked, tilting his head to crack his neck. He reached forward to grab at Crutchie’s shirt, missing by an inch as Crutchie leaned back to dodge. Bracing himself, Crutchie threw his entire weight into Oscar, knocking them both to the ground. His crutch falling to the ground, kicked to the side in the scuffle. Tall stacks of papers flipped over with them as they tumbled, punch after punch thrown back and forth. Crutchie rolled onto him, pulling his fist back and thrusting it hard into Oscar’s nose. Blood poured down his chin as he yelled out, shoving Crutchie hard trying to get the upper hand.

Crutchie swung at him again, his fist connecting with Oscar’s jaw once more. Oscar swung back, his knuckles crashing into Crutchie’s cheekbone. He blinked quickly, trying his best to regain the focus in his eyes. They continued rolling together, and as soon as he saw the chance, Oscar brought his knee down hard against Crutchie’s bad leg. He yelped in pain, his leg burning. He grabbed for it, squeezing, trying to calm the agony. Oscar hit him again. He could taste blood – He hit him again, and again. In the face, the leg. Only his bad one. He was seeing stars.

Oscar was playing dirty now – Fine. If he could play dirty… They struggled against each other. Oscar had Crutchie by the collar, his fist pulled back, ready to deliver what would most likely be a final blow when – Crutchie brought his good leg up as hard and as quickly as he could, his knee hitting Oscar hard – Right between the legs.

Oscar curled in on himself, falling to the side and off of the smaller boy. Crutchie scrambled away and pulled his trembling bloodied fist back. If Oscar could hit him when he was down, then he could do the same. Oscar groaned, his face was red. “Your dirty son of a –” Crutchie let his fist fly again and –

“Hey! Hey hey hey!!”

Crutchie ignored the familiar voice coming towards him as he stumbled as Oscar rolled out of the way. But he wasn’t done yet. He tackled Oscar back to the ground, his hands scraping against the concrete. Crutchie tried to pin him to the ground, to show him that he’d won but –

“Hey! Crutchie!! Cool it!”

Arms wrapped tight around Crutchie’s center gently, but forcefully and pulled the bruised boy off of the other. “What the hell is the matter with you?!” Jack set him down, but kept a tight grip on his arms. He bent forward, panic in his eyes. “Hey!”

“Ask him.” Crutchie tried to after him again, to no avail. His blood was still boiling. His leg was screaming in pain – His cheek was swollen, his eye already bruised. He sniffed.

“It ain’t my problem you and your boyfriend are havin’ issues, sweetheart.” Oscar stumbled to his feet, fire burning behind his eyes. He wanted more.

Crutchie growled at him, trying to turn out of Jack’s grip. He was seeing red.

“Alright! Oscar, shut your damn mouth! Crutchie take a breath!” Jack gripped tighter, trying to bring him back to the ground. “Calm down.” He stared at him, both amazed and unsurprised at how hard it was to keep him under control.

“You’re lucky the refuge is gone. It’s where people like you belong.” Oscar scoffed, wiping blood from his nose. He sneered. “And keep your disgusting hands off me. I don’t want'a catch whatever diseases you got, fairy.”

“Cheese it.” Jack glared at him – His gaze so strong Oscar submitted, dropping his eyes quickly as he spit at Crutchie’s feet.

“Have a good time cleanin’ up.” Oscar turned and walked away – His tail between his legs.

“Now.” Jack turned his gaze, gentle, back to Crutchie. His hands moved from his arms, to his trembling shoulders. “What was that about? I ain’t mad at you. I just want to know why I have to go finish him off.”

It was quiet for a moment – The only sounds came from the street behind them. People talking, walking by not paying any attention to the chaos beyond the gate. Birds… A low rumble of thunder far in the distance. “Don’t worry about it.” He brought his hand up to swat at Jack’s strong hands.

“Don’t tell me not to worry about it.” He bent down to pick up Crutchie’s hat and dust it off. He looked at it, not remembering it falling off of his head. Jack set it back on his head, positioning it exactly where he liked to wear it. “What did that scum say to you?”

“I said not to worry about it.” His stubbornness made him adjust his hat. He didn’t want Jack to know that he did it right. “It’s fine.” His voice was sharp, venomous. He straightened his back and brought his hand up to wipe the blood from his chin. His left leg was starting to sting – All of his weight was concentrated on it… Where was his crutch?

“Whoa – Charlie…” He raised a brow. “Calm down there.”

He melted hearing his name like that. His breath caught and he felt blood rush to his cheeks. He felt his heart flutter and he… Breathed. “I –” He stopped, his eyes falling to the ground, ashamed. “I’m sorry. I just –” He lifted his head to find Jack’s eyes again. His vision was clear now and… There was Davey – Quietly cleaning up the mess they had made of the stacks of papers. “I’m gonna go.” His eyes fell again. All of the butterflies vanishing from his stomach. His heart was in his throat.

“No. You ain’t goin’ anywhere right now.” He reached forward to wipe at the smudge of dirt and blood on his cheek.

Crutchie recoiled.

Jack stopped breathing.

“I’m gonna go.” Crutchie searched the ground for his crutch, fighting the tears away, willing them to hold off just a little longer. He bent down – His leg gave out. Jack reached out, grabbing him gently and – “I got it, Jack!” Crutchie snapped.

Jack blinked, his eyes full of something Crutchie didn’t recognize. He helped him regain his balance but let go soon after. Jack scooped up the piece of wood and leaned it towards the shaking boy. “Be careful, alright?” He smiled, weak.

Crutchie’s stomach convulsed. What had he done now? His mind was running wild, that little voice he tried so hard to supress whispered in his ear. 'You ain’t worth his trouble.’ 'It’ll be better if you push him away.’ He reached out, his eyes on the ground and took the crutch gently out of Jack’s hands. “Yeah.” The tears that had been building were about to spill. He needed to get away now – If Jack saw him crying, he’d want to follow him. “See you 'round.” Crutch under his arm, he stumbled away, his jaw clenched.

“You alright, Crutchie?” Davey’s voice asked, concerned.

Crutchie could see him out of the corner of his eye as he quickly walked past, tall and kind. Davey was so gentle. He was able and proud. Confident ever since the strike ended. He could reign Jack in when he needed to calm down. He was the type of person Jack needed in his life. Not some broken up kid that could barely take care of himself. 'What is wrong with you, Charlie?’ He asked himself, ignoring Davey and rounding the corner.

He walked and walked and walked. He walked past Medda’s theater, Jacobi’s Deli, the lodging house. He walked past the bookshop and the florist. He walked past the church. He walked until he couldn’t walk anymore. His lungs burned, his leg seized up, his head throbbed. He pulled his hat off of his head and threw it, a frustrated growl echoed down the alley he had stopped in.

Why? Why was he acting like this all of a sudden. What has made him this way? This wasn’t him. He didn’t get… Jealous like this. Jealousy wasn’t him. He had seen Jack spend time with plenty of people in the past. Crutchie liked Davey! They were great friends. They had spent tons of time together, talking and laughing and selling – So why..? And suddenly, memories flooded his mind. Memories of his nightmares, memories of his parents – Voices screaming in his ears. 'Useless,’ 'disgusting,’ 'broken.’ Memories of that poor puppy and those three boys. Memories of Oscar calling him all of those vulgar and terrible and cruel names.

He remembered his time at the refuge. He remembered the horrible things that Snyder did to him. The horrifying things he let happen. He yelled, his voice going hoarse. He remembered how he felt that day. The day he had been dragged on his stomach away from the rest of the fleeing boys. The day he saw Jack run, leaving him behind. The day he heard Jack’s voice, yelling his name, echoing after him. He remembered the night Jack came to try and see him. He remembered how he had smiled bright, waving from the top bunk. Pretending came easy. He had to make sure Jack’s spirits stayed up…

So, why all of a sudden was he finding it harder and harder to smile? He leaned, his back hitting brick and slid down the wall to sit. There was no way he could go back to the lodging house. He couldn’t go where Jack was. He couldn’t see Davey or Specs or Race or Jojo or Elmer. He couldn’t see anyone. Not while he was like this. He wrapped his arms around his legs, hugging them close.

It would be better if he didn’t go back to that place. The boys would be better off – Everyone would be better off. No one would have to worry about him anymore.

He remembered the night he had woken up from that terrible dream. He remembered Jack’s arms around him. He remembered his hands pushing through his hair, wiping the sweat from his brow. Jack had said 'you lift us up.’ Crutchie had laughed – And he felt his lips curling up now. He remembered Specs earlier just that day, reassuring him when he couldn’t find Jack. He remembered the day of the strike – He remembered how supportive Davey was when he was showing off the strike banner he had made.

“Why am I like this?” He whispered, asking no one but himself.

He wasn’t expecting an answer.

“It’s them Manhattan boys. They’s all a little… You know.”

Crutchie almost jumped out of his skin. His head shot up, his body stumbled back, grasping for his crutch.

“Whoa! Crutchie cool it!” Spot held out his hands. “It’s just me kid, I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

“Spot!” He paused to catch his breath. “What… What’re you…”

“I think I should be askin’ you that. You’s is on my territory.”

Great.

Crutchie forced himself up, clearly straining. “Yeah – Sorry 'bout that.”

“Didn’t say you wasn’t welcome, did I?” He crossed his arms, a brow raised questioning.

He forced a smile onto his face. He needed to get going… “I appreciate it, but you know… I gotta – I need to get back.”

“So you walked here for fun?”

“… Sure did.” Crutchie dropped his head, his smile fading slowly.

“Jackass givin’ you trouble?” He reached out and grabbed Crutchie’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

His eyes filled again. His chest tightened. Oh no. He lifted his head, his bottom lip quivering a bit. “I’m just – Bein’…” He paused, sniffing back a gentle sob. “I’m over - thinkin’, you know?”

Spot smiled. It was a rare sight that threw Crutchie off. “Come on, kid. Let’s get a bite.”


End file.
